- Rating:
- R
- House:
- Astronomy Tower
- Characters:
- Draco Malfoy Ginny Weasley
- Genres:
- Romance Drama
- Era:
- Multiple Eras
- Spoilers:
- Chamber of Secrets
- Stats:
-
Published: 04/20/2005Updated: 06/28/2005Words: 24,034Chapters: 6Hits: 2,668
He Never Said Goodbye
SlytherinPsyche
- Story Summary:
- She was the first person to see him as a human being instead of an object. He was the first person to make her forget how to face the loneliness of tomorrow. And then, it happens: he needs to run away and she falls apart. "Will you wait for me?" ... Even before she opened her mouth, she knew that there could be no other answer, but she couldn't understand why it made her feel so awful. "Of c-course I w-w-will. H-how c-could I n-n-not?" Ten years later, she falls apart again. In short, a D/G love story of very sad proportions.
Chapter 01
- Posted:
- 04/20/2005
- Hits:
- 799
CHAPTER ONE
Goodbye
The most romantic place on the Hogwarts grounds was sadly considered to be out-of-bounds by the headmaster of the school. It was therefore rarely visited by those who did not care to feel the wrath of the caretaker, Argus Filch, who patrolled the corridors of the school every hour of the day and night, desperately hoping to stumble upon a wayward student and hang the unlucky rule-breaker up by his or her ankles in his office. The gleaming chains and manacles on his office walls were proof of his eagerness.
The Astronomy Tower, on the other hand, seemed to have been made for night-time visits from hormone-crazed teenagers. There was plenty of space in the circular room at the very top of the tower and, if one wished, one could easily climb up onto the roof through the wide, shutter deprived windows.
Considering that it was the tallest tower of the castle, it didn't matter much whether you decided to stay inside it or go up to the roof; if you chose to remain inside, one simple spell would make the roof disappear, and an image of the sky right above the roof would take its place. A permanent version of this spell was presumed to be the one controlling the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall.
The Astronomy Tower was thereby the most popular resort for those who did not feel particularly brave or energetic. Glynnis Glade, the most romantic place on the Hogwarts grounds, wasn't even anywhere near the castle; twenty minutes' flying at high speed on a good broomstick would be the only way of getting there without going into the Forbidden Forest.
Ginny Weasley, however, was one of the select few who knew a way of getting there without being spotted. It was necessary to walk to one of the ends of the Forest, though, which took a healthy portion of the time allotted to the venture, especially if the stomach of the adventurer was not over the recently ingested dinner.
But once the outskirts of the Forest were reached, all that was needed was a broomstick and the time and patience to be able to spend the next twenty or so minutes skimming the tops of conifers with one's feet.
Luckily, Ginny Weasley had all the necessary requirements for this trip as she sluggishly traipsed to the left edge of the Forest, having just finished dinner at the Gryffindor table with her brother Ron and his friends, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.
It was the day before Hogwarts students left the castle beloved by many and returned to their homes and parents for a two month summer holiday, so neither Ron nor his friends badgered Ginny with questions of where she was going so late and why; they must've thought she was going out for one last broomstick flight around Hogwarts, sentimental as she was supposed to be. They were all too busy packing and reminiscing to really care anyway. It was their last year at Hogwarts and Ginny's sixth.
Many things had happened that year that they would want to think about. Many things that they would want to forget. But there were many more things happening under their very noses that they couldn't see, mustn't see, otherwise Ginny's world would come crumbling down around her feet.
Like her relationship with Draco Malfoy, for example. Now that would be unexpected news to them, even with all the things that had just recently happened ...
It was only a couple of weeks ago that Voldemort, the most feared wizard for a hundred years, was destroyed by his nemesis, Harry Potter, and his band of close friends and worshippers. Ginny didn't know precisely how it had come about, because she now happened not to be part of the "band of close friends" or "worshippers".
Today was, in fact, the three-year anniversary of the triumphant end of her four-year obsession with Harry. As she shuffled across the Hogwarts grounds, the hem of her robes wet and shoes muddy, Ginny had never felt cleaner, even though the one she was associating with now was considered, by popular belief, to be of less worth than the filth on the soles of her shoes.
This popular belief, however, was more like a tradition than a heartfelt rule. When the Death Eaters who had stood by Voldemort in his last hours were unmasked, Draco Malfoy was not found among them, though his father and many of his housemates were.
Those keen to believe that he had not given up his supposedly evil ways said that Draco had fled when he realised his side was losing and was planning to become the next Dark Lord. Others, who chose to take a more benevolent point of view, said that Draco decided the Dark Side was no longer for him and decided to amend his wicked ways. And those unwilling to take any particular side simply shrugged their shoulders and steered the conversation away from such dangerous waters.
Remembering, Ginny took a crumpled piece of parchment out of her pocket and lovingly folded it out on her palm to read the message yet again.
The most romantic place on the Hogwarts grounds was sadly considered to be out-of-bounds by the headmaster of the school. It was therefore rarely visited by those who did not care to feel the wrath of the caretaker, Argus Filch, who patrolled the corridors of the school every hour of the day and night, desperately hoping to stumble upon a wayward student and hang the unlucky rule-breaker up by his or her ankles in his office. The gleaming chains and manacles on his office walls were proof of his eagerness.
The Astronomy Tower, on the other hand, seemed to have been made for night-time visits from hormone-crazed teenagers. There was plenty of space in the circular room at the very top of the tower and, if one wished, one could easily climb up onto the roof through the wide, shutter deprived windows.
Considering that it was the tallest tower of the castle, it didn't matter much whether you decided to stay inside it or go up to the roof; if you chose to remain inside, one simple spell would make the roof disappear, and an image of the sky right above the roof would take its place. A permanent version of this spell was presumed to be the one controlling the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall.
The Astronomy Tower was thereby the most popular resort for those who did not feel particularly brave or energetic. Glynnis Glade, the most romantic place on the Hogwarts grounds, wasn't even anywhere near the castle; twenty minutes' flying at high speed on a good broomstick would be the only way of getting there without going into the Forbidden Forest.
Ginny Weasley, however, was one of the select few who knew a way of getting there without being spotted. It was necessary to walk to one of the ends of the Forest, though, which took a healthy portion of the time allotted to the venture, especially if the stomach of the adventurer was not over the recently ingested dinner.
But once the outskirts of the Forest were reached, all that was needed was a broomstick and the time and patience to be able to spend the next twenty or so minutes skimming the tops of conifers with one's feet.
Luckily, Ginny Weasley had all the necessary requirements for this trip as she sluggishly traipsed to the left edge of the Forest, having just finished dinner at the Gryffindor table with her brother Ron and his friends, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.
It was the day before Hogwarts students left the castle beloved by many and returned to their homes and parents for a two month summer holiday, so neither Ron nor his friends badgered Ginny with questions of where she was going so late and why; they must've thought she was going out for one last broomstick flight around Hogwarts, sentimental as she was supposed to be. They were all too busy packing and reminiscing to really care anyway. It was their last year at Hogwarts and Ginny's sixth.
Many things had happened that year that they would want to think about. Many things that they would want to forget. But there were many more things happening under their very noses that they couldn't see, mustn't see, otherwise Ginny's world would come crumbling down around her feet.
Like her relationship with Draco Malfoy, for example. Now that would be unexpected news to them, even with all the things that had just recently happened ...
It was only a couple of weeks ago that Voldemort, the most feared wizard for a hundred years, was destroyed by his nemesis, Harry Potter, and his band of close friends and worshippers. Ginny didn't know precisely how it had come about, because she now happened not to be part of the "band of close friends" or "worshippers".
Today was, in fact, the three-year anniversary of the triumphant end of her four-year obsession with Harry. As she shuffled across the Hogwarts grounds, the hem of her robes wet and shoes muddy, Ginny had never felt cleaner, even though the one she was associating with now was considered, by popular belief, to be of less worth than the filth on the soles of her shoes.
This popular belief, however, was more like a tradition than a heartfelt rule. When the Death Eaters who had stood by Voldemort in his last hours were unmasked, Draco Malfoy was not found among them, though his father and many of his housemates were.
Those keen to believe that he had not given up his supposedly evil ways said that Draco had fled when he realised his side was losing and was planning to become the next Dark Lord. Others, who chose to take a more benevolent point of view, said that Draco decided the Dark Side was no longer for him and decided to amend his wicked ways. And those unwilling to take any particular side simply shrugged their shoulders and steered the conversation away from such dangerous waters.
Remembering, Ginny took a crumpled piece of parchment out of her pocket and lovingly folded it out on her palm to read the message yet again.
Our place.
After dinner.
D
Though there were very few words, Ginny understood the cryptic message but wondered why it had been written so untidily - there were ink spots on the parchment and the handwriting was barely legible. Draco's notes to her were always written with painstaking care. Despite her earnest wish to ignore this oddity, Ginny couldn't help but start to worry if something bad had happened that would render them apart.
When she reached the left edge of the wood she replaced the note back into her pocket, sat astride her broom and kicked off hard, her shoes making squelching noises as they pressed down on the mud. The sun was beginning to set as she rose up over the treetops, casting a warm orange glow on her face while burning its way through the horizon.
Ginny bent her body closer to her speeding broomstick and squinted at the sun, though not really seeing it. After about twenty minutes, she noticed a patch of grass in the shape of a five-point star towards the end of the Forbidden Forest, so pointed her broomstick down towards it, and prepared for touchdown. Glynnis Glade was mere seconds away.
After dinner.
D
Though there were very few words, Ginny understood the cryptic message but wondered why it had been written so untidily - there were ink spots on the parchment and the handwriting was barely legible. Draco's notes to her were always written with painstaking care. Despite her earnest wish to ignore this oddity, Ginny couldn't help but start to worry if something bad had happened that would render them apart.
When she reached the left edge of the wood she replaced the note back into her pocket, sat astride her broom and kicked off hard, her shoes making squelching noises as they pressed down on the mud. The sun was beginning to set as she rose up over the treetops, casting a warm orange glow on her face while burning its way through the horizon.
Ginny bent her body closer to her speeding broomstick and squinted at the sun, though not really seeing it. After about twenty minutes, she noticed a patch of grass in the shape of a five-point star towards the end of the Forbidden Forest, so pointed her broomstick down towards it, and prepared for touchdown. Glynnis Glade was mere seconds away.
~ ~ ~
Ginny and Draco had been meeting in Glynnis Glade for almost three years and hadn't been caught once. If anyone else had the gall to visit it, there must have been some kind of invisible roster embedded in their minds, because neither Draco nor Ginny had ever stumbled upon them.
Though the Glade was Unplottable, everyone knew what it was and how it came about. It was named after the Glynnis, an extremely rare flower cultivated by Helga Hufflepuff, which, according to legend, possessed powers that drugged the one who chewed on its sweet petals and sent as pleasant dreams as was heavenly possible into their unnatural slumber. Therefore, it was much lusted after by addicts and insomniacs alike, and was, for some incomprehensible reason, ruled out as an illegal substance by the Ministry of Magic.
This, of course, did nothing to abate the thirst of those who sought it. In fact, Ginny was very well aware that a roaring black market trade of these plants existed within the walls of Hogwarts. It was all a matter of who you were, who you knew, what you had and how much of it you had. Status, in all aspects, was very important.
And, because Ginny was known to be excluded from Harry Potter's private little clique, she was suddenly privy to all kinds of fascinating things: hallucinogens, bad boys, hidden parties that you couldn't even find without a proper invitation. She was no longer recalled as a shy schizophrenic, but as a quiet rebel and a closet wild child.
And it was precisely for this reason that Draco Malfoy, the bad boy of bad boys, chose Ginny Weasley to be his unlawful unwedded ... person.
Draco Malfoy drove her further into the world of sanity-threatening rulebreaking and heart-stopping excitement. He was all about fun and danger, and Ginny loved it.
She learned a lot about this secret world of Hogwarts; how it functioned, why it functioned, and who made this world go round. It seemed to have been around forever, but she knew nothing about it.
Until now. Now she was as much a part of its life as it was a part of hers. And she was pretty sure that Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger still knew nothing about it, though it was their last chance to find out, as they were in their seventh year.
Yet Ginny did not miss them. Her body was too full of Magic Star Dust, her mind too busy with parties, her heart too enamoured with Draco to miss the typical life-threatening adventures of Harry Potter and company. There were so many drugs to try, so much music to dance to, so many kisses to share! It was the fast-lane kind of circles that Ginny now moved around in, and it was either their way or the highway. (And Ginny was too bedazzled by this fast world to spare half a thought for the highway).
Funnily enough, Draco Malfoy was the first to notice this new change in her, and, suddenly, the littlest red-headed, freckle-faced Weasley seemed so much more appealing. He didn't have to spend his time corrupting her; it had already happened, right under his nose, and why hadn't he seen it before?
Suddenly, he didn't care about her family's poverty or his own reputation. Suddenly, all the petty excuses he always thought of before seemed so stupid and meaningless that he couldn't bear to think of them anymore. Had he known better, Draco would have thought he'd fallen in love; but, as things were, he decided to settle on enchantment.
It was unheard of! That tiny, ragged, carrot-top, Ginny Weasley, enchanted the dashing heir of the Malfoy fortune?
Fortunately, no one in the circles Draco and Ginny now moved around in cried, "Fie!" or "For shame!" Though, of course, everyone else in these secret circles was too banjoed out of their heads on Magic Star Dust to cry anything much. Not that they could notice much in the first place, anyway.
In the daytime, in front of those excluded from the secret circles of Hogwarts, Draco and Ginny treated each other with the utmost nonchalance. That is to say, they did not give each other any notice at all.
If they ever bumped into each other, there was perhaps a fleeting moment when their eyes met; but before anyone else could remark upon it, there was a ten-foot space between them, and it was as though they had been on the opposite sides of the school when the accident happened.
They both knew what kind of fatal danger their relationship could invoke (as was said before, that tiny ragged carrot-top, Ginny Weasley, enchanted the dashing heir of the Malfoy fortune?), so both of them agreed to keep things quiet. At least for the present.
Ginny and Draco had been meeting in Glynnis Glade for almost three years and hadn't been caught once. If anyone else had the gall to visit it, there must have been some kind of invisible roster embedded in their minds, because neither Draco nor Ginny had ever stumbled upon them.
Though the Glade was Unplottable, everyone knew what it was and how it came about. It was named after the Glynnis, an extremely rare flower cultivated by Helga Hufflepuff, which, according to legend, possessed powers that drugged the one who chewed on its sweet petals and sent as pleasant dreams as was heavenly possible into their unnatural slumber. Therefore, it was much lusted after by addicts and insomniacs alike, and was, for some incomprehensible reason, ruled out as an illegal substance by the Ministry of Magic.
This, of course, did nothing to abate the thirst of those who sought it. In fact, Ginny was very well aware that a roaring black market trade of these plants existed within the walls of Hogwarts. It was all a matter of who you were, who you knew, what you had and how much of it you had. Status, in all aspects, was very important.
And, because Ginny was known to be excluded from Harry Potter's private little clique, she was suddenly privy to all kinds of fascinating things: hallucinogens, bad boys, hidden parties that you couldn't even find without a proper invitation. She was no longer recalled as a shy schizophrenic, but as a quiet rebel and a closet wild child.
And it was precisely for this reason that Draco Malfoy, the bad boy of bad boys, chose Ginny Weasley to be his unlawful unwedded ... person.
Draco Malfoy drove her further into the world of sanity-threatening rulebreaking and heart-stopping excitement. He was all about fun and danger, and Ginny loved it.
She learned a lot about this secret world of Hogwarts; how it functioned, why it functioned, and who made this world go round. It seemed to have been around forever, but she knew nothing about it.
Until now. Now she was as much a part of its life as it was a part of hers. And she was pretty sure that Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger still knew nothing about it, though it was their last chance to find out, as they were in their seventh year.
Yet Ginny did not miss them. Her body was too full of Magic Star Dust, her mind too busy with parties, her heart too enamoured with Draco to miss the typical life-threatening adventures of Harry Potter and company. There were so many drugs to try, so much music to dance to, so many kisses to share! It was the fast-lane kind of circles that Ginny now moved around in, and it was either their way or the highway. (And Ginny was too bedazzled by this fast world to spare half a thought for the highway).
Funnily enough, Draco Malfoy was the first to notice this new change in her, and, suddenly, the littlest red-headed, freckle-faced Weasley seemed so much more appealing. He didn't have to spend his time corrupting her; it had already happened, right under his nose, and why hadn't he seen it before?
Suddenly, he didn't care about her family's poverty or his own reputation. Suddenly, all the petty excuses he always thought of before seemed so stupid and meaningless that he couldn't bear to think of them anymore. Had he known better, Draco would have thought he'd fallen in love; but, as things were, he decided to settle on enchantment.
It was unheard of! That tiny, ragged, carrot-top, Ginny Weasley, enchanted the dashing heir of the Malfoy fortune?
Fortunately, no one in the circles Draco and Ginny now moved around in cried, "Fie!" or "For shame!" Though, of course, everyone else in these secret circles was too banjoed out of their heads on Magic Star Dust to cry anything much. Not that they could notice much in the first place, anyway.
In the daytime, in front of those excluded from the secret circles of Hogwarts, Draco and Ginny treated each other with the utmost nonchalance. That is to say, they did not give each other any notice at all.
If they ever bumped into each other, there was perhaps a fleeting moment when their eyes met; but before anyone else could remark upon it, there was a ten-foot space between them, and it was as though they had been on the opposite sides of the school when the accident happened.
They both knew what kind of fatal danger their relationship could invoke (as was said before, that tiny ragged carrot-top, Ginny Weasley, enchanted the dashing heir of the Malfoy fortune?), so both of them agreed to keep things quiet. At least for the present.
~ ~ ~
With a myriad of memories causing a maelstrom in her head, Ginny alighted off her broom and looked around. She appeared to be the only human being in sight for miles - meaning that nothing had changed in Glynnis Glade.
It was truly a beautiful place. A ring of silver-barked beech trees surrounded the clearing, with clumps of crimson and purple snapdragons littering the space around them. Here and there a bunch of tiny daisies poked their nosy little heads out of the wispy grass of the Glade and stared at Ginny. Though she'd been here at least a thousand times, she always felt they stared at her with disdain, as though such a ragamuffin as she could never belong in so fine a place as their home.
A slight breeze caused the beech leaves to quiver as though they were cold, and the tall stems of the snapdragons bent forward a little. Nevertheless, Ginny got the impression that they were somehow in pain, especially the crimson ones, all covered in a blood-like colour as they were. This should have said something to her, given her some kind of warning as to what was ahead.
But, as she was completely out of her mind with unreasonable panic, she could perceive no extra warnings from what was around her. All she could feel was that something was not right. She had never been too good at deciphering her intuition. That goddamned fiasco with Tom Riddle's goddamn diary in her first year at Hogwarts proved this and more.
Now that had to be the worst year of her life. She had been looking forward to going to Hogwarts more than anything in the world (apart from winning the fifty million Galleon lottery, of course). But then she, the unluckiest of unlucky people, had to find a stupid evil diary in her stupid evil Transfiguration book, be possessed by a stupid evil Dark Lord, and become the Resident Schizophrenic of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was a perfect cliché.
Ginny's right eyebrow began to twitch as she stood remembering the horrors of her first year. It was five years ago and she hadn't had a single nightmare about it since the last time she fought with Draco (two months ago), yet she still quailed at the memories that year brought back. She had hobnobbed with a giant basilisk; set it on Hogwarts students; then killed not one but three roosters, and all for the same poxing basilisk!
She was a murderer and a traitor, but what did that matter five years down the line when she hadn't killed anyone but the ants she stepped on when she walked? And nobody really thought of her as such anymore, and -
Oh, where was Draco?!
He had never been fifteen minutes late before. The maximum for him was two and a half minutes, and that was only because he'd had a run-in with Harry Potter and simply couldn't resist riling him up a little. Perhaps this time he'd actually given him a black eye? Or two black eyes, a bloody nose, cut lip, broken arm and leg, several cracked ribs, and a punctured lung, like he'd always wanted to? When he was high on Magic Star Dust, he loved to harp on about how he wouldn't even need his wand to get Harry into such a state of injury.
Something rustled behind Ginny and she turned around, all her senses heightened to the point of madness. She saw a flash of silver among the beech trees and instantly knew it was Draco. His hair was precisely that shade of silver-blonde, and he was exactly that tall. She could recognise him anywhere and anytime.
He stepped out of the trees, over the snapdragons and crushed a couple of daisies with his dragon-hide boots. Ginny flew to him and threw herself on him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Draco hesitated a few seconds before circling his own arms around her waist, resting his hands lightly on the small of her back.
Not a minute was allowed to pass before he disentangled Ginny's arms from where they clung around his neck and took three paces away from her. Immediately, Ginny knew her intuition was right and, without wasting any time, damned it to hell and beyond. Every time she and Draco embraced, he proceeded to ravish her neck with his mouth, leaving her with more than enough hickeys to hide from the prying eyes of the student body of Hogwarts. What was going on?
Draco's grey eyes were colder and harder than Ginny had ever seen them before. His face was impassive, and his soft expressive mouth was set in a cruel thin line. He was not dressed in the Slytherin uniform, but wrapped in a black travelling cloak with a silver clasp in the form of a snake, with more black clothes underneath as far as Ginny could tell.
This was the Draco she rarely saw, and could never understand when she did. This was the Draco who emerged when the initial euphoric effects of severe drunkenness had worn off; the Draco who sat brooding in a secluded corner for hours at a time on Merlin-knew-what; the Draco who reared his remarkably sombre head when he received an unwelcome letter from his father.
This last reason for Draco's uncharacteristic gloominess was the one Ginny suspected now for his cold and reserved manner. But what had Lucius Malfoy written to the poor boy now that had affected him so greatly that he felt he had to go on some massive journey?
Ginny took one tentative step closer to him, her face imploring him to share his secrets with her. "What is it?"
But Draco remained silent and the expession on his face unreadable. He gazed stonily at Ginny's anxious face, his hands safe in his pockets, so she would not see them curl into fists. It took all his self-control to keep himself from grabbing her and holding her close to him, hoping he would never have to let go.
For three years Ginny had been his friend, his lover, his safety, his lifeline. For three years, he speculated what drew him to her with such a powerful force, and for three years the answer evaded him. He supposed it may have been her kindness or selflessness, unlike that of anyone he had ever met, but now, at the end of their - well, whatever it was they had had - he finally realised, with a heavy blow that sent him mentally staggering, the reason he had tried to escape, ignore, destroy.
She was the first person to see him as a human being instead of an object.
She belonged with the rest of the world no more than he did. Behind their respective veneers of wealth and poverty, disdain and humanity, selfishness and charity, Draco and Ginny remained completely separate from the rest of the world around them. It wasn't for lack of trying - Draco had offered his friendship to Harry Potter back in their first year at Hogwarts, and it wasn't even Ginny's fault that a cursed diary had been slipped into her Transfiguration book just before her first year began. They both simply did not belong with the world, no matter how hard Draco tried to appear that he owned it or how much Ginny involved herself with helping those around her.
Draco understood that Ginny just didn't live for the world. As far as he knew - and he knew her better than even she knew herself - she was looking for something else to live for, something better and more important than the world. Everybody around him looking forward to the future, but Ginny only cared about the present, the now, the moment she was in right then and there. She didn't dream about wedding dresses, or children, or cosy little cottages by the sea. She was randomly passionate, and experienced each moment of fun as though it was her last.
It just happened to be an accident that her surname was Weasley. Just like it happened to be an accident that his own surname was Malfoy. When his sweat-drenched body was pressed against hers on the cramped, make-shift dancefloor at the secret underground parties, all that mattered was to keep oneself that way - close to her body, breathing her scent, moving against her. Surnames became something from another world, another past. All that existed was the music, the shadows and her.
Which made it all the more difficult for Draco to leave her without any proper explanation or goodbye. He almost felt like he was betraying her ... almost. He hadn't grown that much of an imagination yet. Still, he felt he owed her more than that. He supposed this was the reason he decided to give her hope of his return to her.
Keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the grass and feeling quite the coward that he was for doing so, he said hoarsely, "I have to go. It's just something that I have to do. I need to figure out who I am and where I stand ... by myself. I'm going to be independent now."
All of a sudden Ginny felt so cold and forlorn, as though a Dementor wa sucking out her soul through her mind; she concentrated on breathing, and staying calm and rational. As soon as she regained use of her vocal cords, she asked, in a small voice, "Where are you going?"
But Draco shook his head, a sure sign of his intent to keep that information away from Ginny's grasp.
Ginny stopped scuffing her shoe and her teeth began chattering. "F-for how long w-w-will you be g-gone?"
"I don't know," was the stony reply. "Probably at least a month, maybe three, maybe more. I just don't know." Suddenly, he stepped closer to her - so close that their lips would have touched if he leaned an inch forward - and willed himself to look straight into her eyes. The pain and torment in them almost caused him to look away again, but also made him utter a question - no, it was more of a plea - that Ginny would come to curse in later years. "Will you wait for me?"
Ginny's breathing came in short gasps, as though she were a fish out of water. Draco noticed her shuddering and his hand encircled her forearm, which served only to increase the shivering further. "Wait for me ... please." His voice came out a strangled whisper.
Even before she opened her mouth, she knew that there could be no other answer, but she couldn't understand why it made her feel so awful. "Of c-course I w-w-will. H-how c-could I n-n-not?"
Draco didn't want to the know the answer to that question. He wished he could feel relieved with her answer, but something at the back of his mind wouldn't let him. Later, he realised that it might have been a guilty conscience, but he didn't think he'd had a sufficiently grown one at that time. He removed his hand from Ginny's arm and dug it back into his pocket. "I'm sorry," was all he could manage to say. And, without offering her another touch or glance, he strode away from her into the depths of the forest, head bent, black-clad shoulders hunched, as though he was some sort of weary shadow.
Ginny didn't know when it had started raining or how it had become dark so fast, but she suddenly found herself surrounded by shadows on all sides and drenched in rainwater. Her hair was plastered to her skull and rivulets of water kept running down her face - or were they tears? Ginny didn't know anything anymore. The most important thing in her life at that moment was walking away from her and she felt completely powerless to stop him.
Her mouth stretched into a heart-rending scream as she fell to her knees, wishing with all her might that she could rip her heart out and tear it to pieces, for all the pain it was causing her. Instead, she clawed at her face, causing long cat-like scratches to appear that she refused to have healed for a long time afterwards.
She screamed, and screamed, and screamed, until her throat felt raw and she could scream no more. Then she fell face-down onto the wet grass and sobbed, digging her fingers into the earth around her. She wished her heart would give out, so that she wouldn't have to endure this agony any longer. She wished her brain would explode, so she wouldn't feel so confused about everything that had just passed. She wished that she could somehow die, right there on the ground, so that she wouldn't have to face the loneliness of tomorrow alone. She had forgotten how to do so in the last three years of Draco's company.
But Draco just ploughed on through the forest, even though Ginny's banshee-like shrieks mercilessly shredded his heart; even though all he wanted was to sprint back and take her into his arms; even though he hated himself for making her go through all this inevitable pain. He gritted his teeth until his jaw hurt and hunched his shoulders further, walking further and further away from the one thing that he thought he could live for and love - no, the one thing he wanted to live for and love.
With a myriad of memories causing a maelstrom in her head, Ginny alighted off her broom and looked around. She appeared to be the only human being in sight for miles - meaning that nothing had changed in Glynnis Glade.
It was truly a beautiful place. A ring of silver-barked beech trees surrounded the clearing, with clumps of crimson and purple snapdragons littering the space around them. Here and there a bunch of tiny daisies poked their nosy little heads out of the wispy grass of the Glade and stared at Ginny. Though she'd been here at least a thousand times, she always felt they stared at her with disdain, as though such a ragamuffin as she could never belong in so fine a place as their home.
A slight breeze caused the beech leaves to quiver as though they were cold, and the tall stems of the snapdragons bent forward a little. Nevertheless, Ginny got the impression that they were somehow in pain, especially the crimson ones, all covered in a blood-like colour as they were. This should have said something to her, given her some kind of warning as to what was ahead.
But, as she was completely out of her mind with unreasonable panic, she could perceive no extra warnings from what was around her. All she could feel was that something was not right. She had never been too good at deciphering her intuition. That goddamned fiasco with Tom Riddle's goddamn diary in her first year at Hogwarts proved this and more.
Now that had to be the worst year of her life. She had been looking forward to going to Hogwarts more than anything in the world (apart from winning the fifty million Galleon lottery, of course). But then she, the unluckiest of unlucky people, had to find a stupid evil diary in her stupid evil Transfiguration book, be possessed by a stupid evil Dark Lord, and become the Resident Schizophrenic of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was a perfect cliché.
Ginny's right eyebrow began to twitch as she stood remembering the horrors of her first year. It was five years ago and she hadn't had a single nightmare about it since the last time she fought with Draco (two months ago), yet she still quailed at the memories that year brought back. She had hobnobbed with a giant basilisk; set it on Hogwarts students; then killed not one but three roosters, and all for the same poxing basilisk!
She was a murderer and a traitor, but what did that matter five years down the line when she hadn't killed anyone but the ants she stepped on when she walked? And nobody really thought of her as such anymore, and -
Oh, where was Draco?!
He had never been fifteen minutes late before. The maximum for him was two and a half minutes, and that was only because he'd had a run-in with Harry Potter and simply couldn't resist riling him up a little. Perhaps this time he'd actually given him a black eye? Or two black eyes, a bloody nose, cut lip, broken arm and leg, several cracked ribs, and a punctured lung, like he'd always wanted to? When he was high on Magic Star Dust, he loved to harp on about how he wouldn't even need his wand to get Harry into such a state of injury.
Something rustled behind Ginny and she turned around, all her senses heightened to the point of madness. She saw a flash of silver among the beech trees and instantly knew it was Draco. His hair was precisely that shade of silver-blonde, and he was exactly that tall. She could recognise him anywhere and anytime.
He stepped out of the trees, over the snapdragons and crushed a couple of daisies with his dragon-hide boots. Ginny flew to him and threw herself on him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Draco hesitated a few seconds before circling his own arms around her waist, resting his hands lightly on the small of her back.
Not a minute was allowed to pass before he disentangled Ginny's arms from where they clung around his neck and took three paces away from her. Immediately, Ginny knew her intuition was right and, without wasting any time, damned it to hell and beyond. Every time she and Draco embraced, he proceeded to ravish her neck with his mouth, leaving her with more than enough hickeys to hide from the prying eyes of the student body of Hogwarts. What was going on?
Draco's grey eyes were colder and harder than Ginny had ever seen them before. His face was impassive, and his soft expressive mouth was set in a cruel thin line. He was not dressed in the Slytherin uniform, but wrapped in a black travelling cloak with a silver clasp in the form of a snake, with more black clothes underneath as far as Ginny could tell.
This was the Draco she rarely saw, and could never understand when she did. This was the Draco who emerged when the initial euphoric effects of severe drunkenness had worn off; the Draco who sat brooding in a secluded corner for hours at a time on Merlin-knew-what; the Draco who reared his remarkably sombre head when he received an unwelcome letter from his father.
This last reason for Draco's uncharacteristic gloominess was the one Ginny suspected now for his cold and reserved manner. But what had Lucius Malfoy written to the poor boy now that had affected him so greatly that he felt he had to go on some massive journey?
Ginny took one tentative step closer to him, her face imploring him to share his secrets with her. "What is it?"
But Draco remained silent and the expession on his face unreadable. He gazed stonily at Ginny's anxious face, his hands safe in his pockets, so she would not see them curl into fists. It took all his self-control to keep himself from grabbing her and holding her close to him, hoping he would never have to let go.
For three years Ginny had been his friend, his lover, his safety, his lifeline. For three years, he speculated what drew him to her with such a powerful force, and for three years the answer evaded him. He supposed it may have been her kindness or selflessness, unlike that of anyone he had ever met, but now, at the end of their - well, whatever it was they had had - he finally realised, with a heavy blow that sent him mentally staggering, the reason he had tried to escape, ignore, destroy.
She was the first person to see him as a human being instead of an object.
She belonged with the rest of the world no more than he did. Behind their respective veneers of wealth and poverty, disdain and humanity, selfishness and charity, Draco and Ginny remained completely separate from the rest of the world around them. It wasn't for lack of trying - Draco had offered his friendship to Harry Potter back in their first year at Hogwarts, and it wasn't even Ginny's fault that a cursed diary had been slipped into her Transfiguration book just before her first year began. They both simply did not belong with the world, no matter how hard Draco tried to appear that he owned it or how much Ginny involved herself with helping those around her.
Draco understood that Ginny just didn't live for the world. As far as he knew - and he knew her better than even she knew herself - she was looking for something else to live for, something better and more important than the world. Everybody around him looking forward to the future, but Ginny only cared about the present, the now, the moment she was in right then and there. She didn't dream about wedding dresses, or children, or cosy little cottages by the sea. She was randomly passionate, and experienced each moment of fun as though it was her last.
It just happened to be an accident that her surname was Weasley. Just like it happened to be an accident that his own surname was Malfoy. When his sweat-drenched body was pressed against hers on the cramped, make-shift dancefloor at the secret underground parties, all that mattered was to keep oneself that way - close to her body, breathing her scent, moving against her. Surnames became something from another world, another past. All that existed was the music, the shadows and her.
Which made it all the more difficult for Draco to leave her without any proper explanation or goodbye. He almost felt like he was betraying her ... almost. He hadn't grown that much of an imagination yet. Still, he felt he owed her more than that. He supposed this was the reason he decided to give her hope of his return to her.
Keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the grass and feeling quite the coward that he was for doing so, he said hoarsely, "I have to go. It's just something that I have to do. I need to figure out who I am and where I stand ... by myself. I'm going to be independent now."
All of a sudden Ginny felt so cold and forlorn, as though a Dementor wa sucking out her soul through her mind; she concentrated on breathing, and staying calm and rational. As soon as she regained use of her vocal cords, she asked, in a small voice, "Where are you going?"
But Draco shook his head, a sure sign of his intent to keep that information away from Ginny's grasp.
Ginny stopped scuffing her shoe and her teeth began chattering. "F-for how long w-w-will you be g-gone?"
"I don't know," was the stony reply. "Probably at least a month, maybe three, maybe more. I just don't know." Suddenly, he stepped closer to her - so close that their lips would have touched if he leaned an inch forward - and willed himself to look straight into her eyes. The pain and torment in them almost caused him to look away again, but also made him utter a question - no, it was more of a plea - that Ginny would come to curse in later years. "Will you wait for me?"
Ginny's breathing came in short gasps, as though she were a fish out of water. Draco noticed her shuddering and his hand encircled her forearm, which served only to increase the shivering further. "Wait for me ... please." His voice came out a strangled whisper.
Even before she opened her mouth, she knew that there could be no other answer, but she couldn't understand why it made her feel so awful. "Of c-course I w-w-will. H-how c-could I n-n-not?"
Draco didn't want to the know the answer to that question. He wished he could feel relieved with her answer, but something at the back of his mind wouldn't let him. Later, he realised that it might have been a guilty conscience, but he didn't think he'd had a sufficiently grown one at that time. He removed his hand from Ginny's arm and dug it back into his pocket. "I'm sorry," was all he could manage to say. And, without offering her another touch or glance, he strode away from her into the depths of the forest, head bent, black-clad shoulders hunched, as though he was some sort of weary shadow.
Ginny didn't know when it had started raining or how it had become dark so fast, but she suddenly found herself surrounded by shadows on all sides and drenched in rainwater. Her hair was plastered to her skull and rivulets of water kept running down her face - or were they tears? Ginny didn't know anything anymore. The most important thing in her life at that moment was walking away from her and she felt completely powerless to stop him.
Her mouth stretched into a heart-rending scream as she fell to her knees, wishing with all her might that she could rip her heart out and tear it to pieces, for all the pain it was causing her. Instead, she clawed at her face, causing long cat-like scratches to appear that she refused to have healed for a long time afterwards.
She screamed, and screamed, and screamed, until her throat felt raw and she could scream no more. Then she fell face-down onto the wet grass and sobbed, digging her fingers into the earth around her. She wished her heart would give out, so that she wouldn't have to endure this agony any longer. She wished her brain would explode, so she wouldn't feel so confused about everything that had just passed. She wished that she could somehow die, right there on the ground, so that she wouldn't have to face the loneliness of tomorrow alone. She had forgotten how to do so in the last three years of Draco's company.
But Draco just ploughed on through the forest, even though Ginny's banshee-like shrieks mercilessly shredded his heart; even though all he wanted was to sprint back and take her into his arms; even though he hated himself for making her go through all this inevitable pain. He gritted his teeth until his jaw hurt and hunched his shoulders further, walking further and further away from the one thing that he thought he could live for and love - no, the one thing he wanted to live for and love.
Next Chapter:< "I hate him! I despise him for doing this to me! I hope he never comes back! I hope he falls into a ditch and dies! I wish he knew how much he hurt me! I wish he knew how much I hate him! I do, I do! I hate him ... I hate him ... I hate him ..."> Ginny steadily begins to lose her grip on reality, but isn't allowed to disappear; and a new option pops up for her - marriage?!